Page 19 of A Pawn in the Game
“Who?”
“Any of them?”
“It’s not how we do business.”
I stare out of the window the rest of the ride to the club. My father built the family business on loyalty. Not loyalty out of fear, but out of respect. It’s why we grew so strong, so fast. The people we work with know we have their backs as much as they have ours. We won’t throw them under the bus as soon as it becomes convenient.
Not everyone in the family agrees with this. But I need to preserve Father’s legacy.
I stalk through the club, not sparing anyone a second glance, and head straight to the dungeon. Something about tonight made unease settle in my stomach. You never know who you can trust. Russians will probably help Landers free his daughter, and I need to check she’s still here.
The guard turns toward the door as soon as I barge in, cocking a gun at me. It’s a guy my brother sent. With all the extra work, I hardly have men to spare.
“Nice reflexes,” I tell him, and he lowers the weapon.
He grumbles in response. My gaze drops to the bed, finding Sophie crying again. Her face is scrunched up into a painful grimace, her cheeks wet with tears. Her pleads are quieter now, distressed whispers pouring out.
“You can go now,” I say, not bothering to turn my head away from her.
In a way, these silent, excruciating pleas are even harder to listen to than the loud wails.
I groan before making my way to her.
Since I sent the guard home, it’s obvious I’m staying here forthe night. It’s already two am, my eyelids are drooping with exhaustion, and this won’t help me get any rest.
I approach her carefully, setting a hand on her shoulder. She smells different. I lower my head to her hair, inhaling a fresh coconut scent. She obviously showered, though she’s still wearing her baggy sweatshirt.
No wonder. The stuff I gave her was practically stripper clothes.
My head draws back to an appropriate distance. “Sophie.Cough, cough.Sophie, wake up.”
Tears stream down her face as she continues begging for mercy. A knot forms inside my chest, constricting it. I clear my throat.
“Sophie, wake up!”
She sucks in a shocked breath, her torso lifting into a seating position and her eyes opening. They widen in an instant as pure terror overtakes her features.
“No, no, please,” she pleads, wrapping her arms around her knees, now fully awake.
“It’s okay. It was just a nightmare.” I try to convey safety with the look in my eyes, but she looks like she’s a second from fainting.
“But y-you…You.” She points a shaky finger at my face and it’s when it dawns on me.
I stroke two fingers over my cheek, only to find them bloody. “Fuck,” I mumble.
With a huff, I get up from the bed and enter the bathroom, rubbing my face with water until the mirror shows no trace of blood.
Drops of water falling to the floor, I make my way back to the room and stand at the foot of the bed.
“Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you.” My hands lift in surrender motion. “You were having a nightmare, and I wanted to snap you out of it.”
She dips her head before swallowing audibly. “Wh-whose blood was that?”
“A bad man’s.” I turn away from her. “Go back to sleep.”
My eyes focus on my phone, hoping that me being distracted will give her more comfort. It takes a while, but eventually she dozes off. In the meantime, I arrange for Mia the waitress to leave clean clothes in front of the door.
Grabbing the clothes, I glance at Sophie again, before heading to the bathroom She looks peaceful now, her brows relaxed, which is a goddamn miracle. I haven’t planned on showering in her room, but I sent the guard away, and there’s no way I’m leaving her alone.
